


How to Save a Life

by buckbeak97



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Other, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson Being Idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25227100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckbeak97/pseuds/buckbeak97
Summary: Set after The Six Thatchers, before the events of The Lying Detective, step into the daily life of Sherlock Holmes as he gloriously falls apart.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Mary Morstan/John Watson
Kudos: 9
Collections: Sherlock Fanfiction





	How to Save a Life

**Author's Note:**

> When I write, I usually loop a song which inspires the whole scene in my head, so I added the cue to play a certain song at the right moment in the story. One can choose to listen to the song or not, whichever fits.

On a rainy July evening, Mrs. Hudson walked in with a cup of Lapsang Souchong black tea for Sherlock, only to find a bizarre scenario in the all familiar yet ever-changing living room of 221b Baker Street. 

Sherlock was staring out the opaque window onto the street. “The question isn’t how John. The question is when. It’s rather intriguing isn’t it?”

Mrs. Hudson caught a breath, and said slowly, placing the cup on the tiny table beside the empty couch, “Oh Sherlock…He…”

“Thank you for the tea Mrs. Hudson, but don’t you have to be at the hairdo appointment in say 20 minutes?” 

“How, i-“

“Ugh please. You always keep your hair in such a messy yet neat fashion ONLY until you don’t have to anymore, could be either because you’ve finally given up hopes of finding a potential romance at the grocery store OR because you’re clearly going to get a haircut, might I add, the latter being much more likely. And the 20 minutes assumption is because you had enough spare time to make me a cup of tea, yet you couldn’t stop giggling yesterday when the women’s hairdo guy from the salon on the next block came by, all of which brings us to the brilliant yet dull conclusion that you have come to John for advice in these dire final moments before your potential romantic encounter, so why don’t you get on with it and get out of here?”

“Oh Sherlock...You’re right about it all, except-“

“Except what, Mrs. Hudson? Oh dear whatever deity you worship! Was it a woman? I must have miscalculated your direction of reproductive attraction then!”

“John isn’t here. He hasn’t been here since….since the funeral.”

As the words seemed to dig into the heavy carpet of the bullet-casing scattered floor, Sherlock simply stared blankly at the empty couch, the inferior one for John, and said, “Oh.”

The lightning struck the lamppost outside, he sat down on the couch, when Mrs. Hudson asked, “Do you need anything while I’m out dear?” 

Sherlock muttered, “Rose…”

[ _[Play How to Save a Life by the Fray]_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/5fVZC9GiM4e8vu99W0Xf6J?si=ytIQE2BxSnWs3Em0MrHsUw)

The morphine started to kick in as he remembered he had taken a shot half an hour before Mrs. Hudson had interrupted. Maybe that’s why it had taken so long! As the annoyance started to fade and his pulse started to slow, his eyes focused on the surroundings again;

“Rosie! Mum’s here. Right here. You’re okay Rosie!”, Mary chuckled while holding Rosamund. John was cleaning out the dust from Sherlock’s favorite revolver, the secret present he had gotten from Mary last Christmas. He had never liked Christmas much because it was always too loud and too bright. But the last one had been different, because Mary was pregnant, John had decided to just keep it among the three of them, and of course, Mrs. Hudson. 

“Sherlock.”, John stared at him with a worried expression. 

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Rosie will grow up to be an assassin like her dear mom if I keep cleaning the guns you two so dearly exchange on the jolly occasions right in front of her?”

Mary laughed and hit him in the bicep, and John yelped, because let’s face it, Mary had always been the strongest of them. Mary caught something in Sherlock’s eyes and asked, “So? What do you think? Will she grow up to be a rather bad-ass assassin like me or a dull old ‘doctor’ like John?”

Sherlock always liked how she threw up air quotes when addressing John by his dear old profession. It was a running joke between the two of them. He wanted to say so many things to her, but only managed a light chuckle through that sudden inexplicable lump in his throat. Must have been the morphine, he thought irritably. 

John said, “Or maybe she’ll take after her godfather and be a heartless cock! Who knows?” 

Mary hit him again at that and came to Sherlock to pull him in an embrace, and said, “Well he’s OUR heartless cock.” Sherlock laughed weakly in her arms, and felt a jerk on his shoulders when the room seemed to flicker, and suddenly it was Lestrade shaking him and yelling in his ears, “SHERLOCK? SHERLOCK? COME ON YOU BASTARD, FOCUS! BREATHE!”

He shook it off and dragged himself back to the room, back to his friends, and noticed that Rosie wasn’t there. 

“Where’s Rosie?”, he asked the two of them.

Mary just looked at him and smiled while John said, “Why Sherlock? You wanna kill her too?”

“Yes you’re right. I might.”, he replied plainly, staring at the empty little crib he had made for his goddaughter. 

Irene appeared behind the kitchen table, and slowly walked to Sherlock with a grin on her face.

“Do you?”, she asked wryly. 

“Please do complete your query.”, he replied. 

“Pray to god it kills you?”, she asked, inclining her head with that same old dominant affection.

“I don’t pray.”, Sherlock Holmes replied. 

Mycroft asked leaning on the door frame, “What now, brother mine?”

“Had I known, had I known…”, he replied with a plea he had never let slip before.

Yet again, the lights started to flicker like crazy as Molly slapped him and said, “Come back you self destructive moron. We….WE NEED…” and she broke off, when the room changed again, this time the lights all seemed to disappear altogether along with Molly Hooper.

“Miss me, yellowbeard?”, said a very familiar voice from the dark window as the glass seemed to be howling with the thunderstorm outside. 

“Who...might you be? I thought everyone had left.”, Sherlock asked.

“I’m the east wind, silly. I could never leave you.”, the voice said with a twisted affection that tugged at the non-existent heart of Sherlock Holmes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first ever fanfic!:D 
> 
> Here's a link to my Sherlock playlist!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1QrwvDK91lGASLlswJTTNT?si=mgqn4tzMT1qT40A253N1mQ
> 
> PS The playlist cover art is collected from that infamous oil painting!


End file.
